


Into Rough Hands

by KillTheDirector



Series: Alternative Universe - Gender Changes [12]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Breast Torture, Classism, Female!Bard, Non-Consensual Touching, Other, Sexism, The Hobbit Kink Meme, this is not a nice fic, threats of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 21:16:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5513597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillTheDirector/pseuds/KillTheDirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is brought before the Master under the charges of smuggling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into Rough Hands

The boards of the Master's hall are rough against Bard's knees as she's all but thrown into the room; her jaw clicks when she's shoved forward, wincing at the feel of a boot pressing heavily down on the middle of her back. The rope around her wrists cut into the skin as she tries to wiggle her arms to gage how much give there is in the knots. 

There isn't. 

"Ah, how lovely it is to have you join us, Bard. " Her name is said as if it's being spit out, and Bard has to resist the urge to shudder at the oily tone of the Master addressing her; his tone is always edged with a note of possessive want whenever she has the displeasure of dealing with him. 

"Can I ask _why_ I'm here?" She grunts out, attempting to look up only to have one of the guards shove their boot harder against her back. Bard is made to look up at the Master from under her lashes, an appearance--she thinks in disgust--that he probably is relishing. 

"You're being charged with smuggling an unknown person into our town's boarders."

A sneer works over Bard's mouth, and she lets out a rather unladylike snort. "There are a lot of smugglers in this town, sir; surely enough for your men to snatch from their homes as well." 

The Master's mouth parts over his chipped and yellowed teeth in a farce of a grin, and he waves his hand nonchalantly; another man is brought into the hall, bound in a similar fashion to Bard. When she sees him, her expression turns to stone; the man is sporting two black eyes and walks with a limp, a few presents the guards have left him with after finding the information they wanted. "This man claims that you were the one to smuggle him, and his illegal goods, into Laketown two days ago; he even gave an exact description of you and your barge." The man looks at her with a pleading expression, his face ashy against the bruises. 

The Master walks around her, his hands held behind his back as he looks over her like a vulture. "I cannot just allow such transgressions to be overlooked; there is a system of doing things that must be followed," he stops in front of her, and Bard has to strain against the boot holding her in place to glare up at the vile man. "I should take away your barge and trading papers, allow you and your children to starve..." 

"No!" Bard's eyes go wide as she struggles to sit up, "Leave my children out of this; this wasn't their doing!" With a quick gesture, the Master has the guard lift his foot away; Bard sits up with a breath of relief (though she has a brief surge of confusion as to why this is being allowed to happen). The Master grips her chin with a tight hold, forcing her to peer into his beady eyes. 

"No, it's not their fault; instead it is the fault of their filthy peasant mother who breaks every law that I have placed upon this town without a care in the world." He sneers at her, shoving her face away as if in disgust; he eyes her when she drops to the ground, struggling against her binds to sit up or stand. "Cut open her shirt."

Her heart nearly stops with the order; the Master sneers down at her, his meaty hands clenching slightly at his sides when one of the guards (Braga her mind supplies weakly) moves towards her with a dirty looking knife. 

Bard releases a shout of protest, attempting to pull away when the guard's hand shoots out and grabs her by the hair; her eyes water as a few strands are yanked loose. The group of men (including the one she has smuggled into town) all stare at her when the sound of her shirt ripping echoes in her head; Bard curses at them all, not caring if she offends the Master until a slap is delivered to her cheek.

"Enough of your crying, wench!" She can feel the cooler air of the hall hit her chest, the exposure causing goose flesh to rise; where the knife had cut slog her shirt, there is a minor cut beginning to ooze blood. The Master stares down at her exposed breasts, sizing Bard up as of she's a side of meat; he aims a cracked tooth grin at her, hands flexing for a moment. "I consider myself a fair and just ruler, Bard." Again her name is nearly spat out; he lifts a hand to stroke down her swelling cheek, running his fat fingers down her neck to rest on her chest. Bard feels her stomach flip in disgust; the fingers in her hair tighten, and she can feel the guard behind her begin to grow hard pressed against her back as he is. 

"You will be given a punishment that is suited to your lowly status as both a peasant and a woman." He laughs meanly, fingers gripping her right breast tight enough for her to nearly choke on the spit and blood that's gathered in her cheek. Bard spits the mixture at him, satisfied when it hits the Master on his sweaty face; he looks shocked, and soon that morphs to rage. 

The guard yanks her head back again whilst the Master wipes the spit from his face. "Wretched bitch!" He hisses; with a violent hand motion, he instructs the guard to toss her to the ground. Bard's head connects with the wood, and a grunt of pain is released. She glares blearily up at him. "Vile son of a bitch, I swear to any god that can hear me that if you think of touching me I'll cut off your balls and feed them to Smaug myself!" Her words are slightly slurred, but the Master laughs loudly and lifts his foot. 

His boot comes down on her chest; Bard lets out a shout of pain, body instinctively attempting to curl in on itself as he kneads her flesh roughly. "If you think that I would fuck a dirty peasant like you, then you view yourself far too highly." Bard tries to move from his foot, straining against the binds around her wrists. "You may have royal blood in you, filthy whore, but I would never debase myself." 

"You," She swallows tears, watching as the guards around her shift and move, bulges apparent in their trousers. "You attempted to 'debase yourself' with me when I was sixteen, but I refused to lay with a man who represents an orc's arse!" The Master snarls, snapping his fingers for her to be lifted; he grips her breasts in both hands, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises, nails digging into Bard's skin. He's close enough for her to feel the hard line of his cock pressed against her leg.

"I have half a mind to let these men take you right now." Bard can see the swear beading on the Master's forehead; she feels the guard's cock twitch in his stiffly toward his table. "pants where he's pressed against her. "I would watch as they filled every hole you have until you fully understand what it is to refuse me." 

"You send others to do what you wish you could." She hisses behind clenched teeth; her heart pounds in fear, eyes flickering around the room to see the eager faces of the guards. 

They stare at one another; the Master's breath comes out in soft pants as he all but grinds against Bard's leg. The guard behind her grips her hair so hard that her scalp goes numb; she wants to crawl out of her skin, the skin of her chest aching from the treatment; she can see the marks from the Master's nails as they lazily ooze blood. 

The Master finishes with a silent groan, hands gripping her breasts tight before going slack; he moves away from her, face pinching in disgust as he glares at her. His breathing is uneven, and he attempts to right himself. "If you have them rape me I'll have the people riot." Bard watches as the Master pauses; she sucks in a breath. "You know I'm popular amongst them; they all wait for an opportunity to rebel against you, this would tip the scales." 

She isn't a great manipulator, but watches as her words take hold. 

The Master adjusts his coat, and walks toward his desk "Do what you will with the man," he waves a dismissive hand, "leave her unscathed." The lines of his shoulders are defensive, and angry; Bard hears the guard behind her growl in frustration as he pulls her with more force than necessary towards the hall doors. 

Her hands are unbound, the skin under them blistered and raw; she pulls her coat tight around her torso, legs wobbly when she sets foot outside. The screams of the man she smuggled ring in her ears as she begins to walk home.


End file.
